LMOTP: Poor Amaar
by goldensphere
Summary: Amaar has been looking stressed lately. Yasir comes up with a plan to make him feel better. When it comes to Yasir's plans, though, things don't turn out as intended. A one-shot based on the show Little Mosque on the Prairie.


**Hey everyone! I love fanfiction, and I love the show Little Mosque on the Prairie. So what can be more logical than to make a fanfiction based on the show? So here it is!**

**This one-shot takes place around the time of season 2. So at this point, Magee has not mystically vanished, JJ is not in the picture yet, and Rayaan and Amaar are only friends. Just to clear that up. **

** Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own this show in any way!**

* * *

**Fatima's Cafe**

"Hey, have you noticed," Rayyan mused one day. The usual group, minus Amaar, sat at the cafe counter.

"Noticed what, Dear?" Sara asked.

"Amaar," replied the daughter. "I mean, he's been acting a bit overly stressed lately. Like, haven't any of you noticed?"

"Now that you mention it, maybe you're right!" Sara sat upright. "We should do something to make him feel better."

"Hmm," said Yasir. "I think I have an i-"

"Forgot about Amaar!" Babar interrupted (rather loudly, if I must add). "What about _me_? I have a much bigger problem on my head!"

"What happened to _you_, Babar?" Rayyan asked.

"Oh, it's my daughter, Layla!" he wailed. "Her brain has been all washed up with this infidel nonsense! She has painted her nails with this little, tiny paintbrush, and she hasn't washed it off for _three days_! Astagfirullah, I haven't even seen her pray for the last few days either!"

"Babar," said Fatima. "She's probably just on her-"

"_As _I was saying," Yasir interrupted. "I think I have an idea."

"I should send her to school in Pakistan?"

"_No_ Babar. I was _talking _about _Amaar._" Yasir leaned closer into the group. "What we should do to make Amaar feel less stressed, is to stress him out to the _very maximum_."

"And how exactly," Rayyan said, skeptically. "is that supposed to make him feel better?"

"I'm not done yet," Yasir said. "What we do is that we stress him out to the maximum, then tell him at the end that it was all a _joke_. That way, he'll feel that there is much less stress than there was in the first place!"

"I'm not sure that's exactly how it wor-"

"You might be on to something," Fatima said, before Rayyan could finish.

"I _guarantee _you it will work!" Yasir looked around excitedly. "Here's what we do..."

* * *

_Coco Cola, or Coke?_ Amaar stood in the convenience store, looking from one can to the other. _Is there even a difference?_

The guy ran his hand through his hair.

_Now which did I take last time? _

Hmmm. Coco Cola it is," he said finally, picking the can up. He started heading towards the cashier.

_Is that Sara?_ Amaar stopped in his tracks, just long enough to see Sara shoving a few items into her purse.

_And she's stealing?! _

Amaar raised his eyebrows.

He was almost positive that she had seen him notice, yet she didn't stop shoving item after item in her purse.

Strangest of all, the items were completely random: wrist-watches, bubble-gum, and... were those _socks_?

_You're the imaam, Amaar. _he thought to himself. _You should do something. _

"Hey, uh, Sara!" he exclaimed, hoping he sounded perfectly casual. "What're you up to?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," the woman replied with a carefree shrug. She added a few more items to her purse, which was already bulging.

"Oh." Amaar already felt bewildered, and the woman's reply did not make him any less confused. He moved closer and lowered his voice. "Why are you stealing?"

"I've done it all my life," Sara lied, trying as much as she could to sound like the mayor. "You know, the books I donated to the mosque a few days ago? Those were also stolen."

"_What?_" Amaar couldn't believe his ears.

Was this really _Sara _saying all this?

"Meh."

With that, the woman left the store without paying. A high-pitch alarm rang through the store, but she just kept on going.

Amaar looked at the cashier, still in shock.

"You know that lady?" the cashier asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"She didn't pay."

"Oh."

The cashier held out his hand and gave him an expectant look.

"Don't worry. It's all on me," Amaar said. He had still not recovered from the shock of seeing Sara stealing.

Poor Amaar.

* * *

"Hey Amaar!" Rayyan called out, catching up to her friend, who was walking outside the mosque. "There you are!"

"Yeah?" Amaar turned around. "Oh, Rayyan. Assalamualaikum! What's up?"

"Walaikumasalam," Rayyan replied, walking along side Amaar. "Ready for the big speech tomorrow?"

Amaar froze.

"What speech?"

"The speech you have to give tomorrow morning." Rayyan looked at him with her best surprised expression. "Don't tell me you didn't _know_! People from all around the province are coming to hear it. It's the speech you have to give as the imaam, talking about the impact of modern politics on the Muslim community!"

"What? Why didn't anyone tell me about this before?" Amaar felt panic setting in. "When is it? Where is it? What do I say?"

"Oh, I forgot to _tell_ you," Rayyan said with an overly-innocent look. "It's at the mosque, at 12:30 PM tomorrow. Babar organized it, and I was supposed to tell you. I'm _so sorry_, Amaar, for telling you at _such_ short notice."

"Why do you sound so sarcastic?"

"I'm not being _sarcastic, _Amaar! How could you say that? I really _am _sorry!"

Ammar looked like he was going to say something, but he stopped himself and took a deep breath.

"Sorry," he sighed. "I'm just a bit stressed. Don't know know why I'd think that."

"So you _are _stressed."

"Huh?"

"Oh, never mind. Once again, I'm _really _sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine. It's better that telling me the night before. Thanks for letting me know. I'll start on it now."

"Okay. I'll be off then," Rayyan said, as she started walking in the opposite direction.

"Right."

Amaar gave a wave, then entered the mosque.

He made his way to his office, and opened the door to find another presence sitting at his desk.

"Yasir!" Amaar called out in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Amaar, my boy, I thought I'd let you know," the man replied. "My office is getting repainted, so I'll be sharing your office for the day. You don't mind, do you?"

"_Why me_?" Amaar mumbled under his breath.

"What's that?"

"Oh, I don't mind at all!" Amaar blurted out, hoping it didn't sound to forced. "Of course, Yasir. What could go wrong with sharing an office with you. I mean, not that I think anything is going to go wrong. I mean... Forget I said anything. I'm _perfectly __fine _with sharing an office."

"Ah, I thought so," Yasir said, with amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh, and I hope you don't mind working on the floor. There's only one desk, and my back feels soar today to I can't really bend down."

Amaar stared into space.

"Of _course. _I don't mind _at all!_"

* * *

"And then, I told him that I threw away his speech and wrote a better speech for him!" Babar exclaimed, as the usual group, minus Amaar, sat at the counter at Fatima's Cafe that afternoon yet again.

"You didn't!" Rayyan laughed. "Oh, he must be more stressed than he's ever been in his _life_!"

"Hey, don't you think we might be over-doing it?" asked Sara, worriedly. "I mean, how much more stress can the boy handle? And I don't like the idea of him thinking that I'm a thief!"

"Sara's right," Fatima said. "I think it's about time that we tell him it's a joke."

"Maybe we should throw him a party," Rayyan suggested. "Tell him to have a day off."

"I like that. I like that," said Yasir.

"More coffee, anyone?" Fatima asked, lifting up her kettle.

"No thanks, Fatima," Yasir replied. He glanced at the window. "Oh, looks like Amaar is here."

"How can we plan a surprise party for Amaar when _Amaar _is here?"

Before anyone could answer Rayyan's question, Amaar walking in through the door.

"Assalamualaikum, everyone," Amaar said with a smile, joining the group. "Fatima, can I have a cup of Cappuccino?"

"One Cappuccino, coming right up," Fatima replied, turning to grab a cup.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be writing your speech?" asked Rayyan. "Did you finish it already?"

"I _did _have it finished. Only, there were some complications," Amaar said, glancing at Babar. "But hey. I'm working on a new one, and inshallah, I'll have it done before tomorrow."

"Why aren't you working on it _now_," Yasir asked, with his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, well, I thought I'd take a break," said Amaar, his smile slightly faltering. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

"I think you should work on it now."

"Yeah, you should," added Rayyan. "Like _now _now."

"Oh. I..." Amaar looked around uncertainly. "Alright. Okay."

The guy slowly got up and started to leave.

"What about your Cappuccino?" Fatima called out after him.

"I've changed my mind. It's fine."

Amaar walked out of the door, his shoulders slightly drooped.

"Now we can plan for the party!" Babar said happily.

"I feel we've gone a bit too far," Sara said, voicing everyone's thoughts.

"He really looked sad," said Fatima.

They all looked at Yasir.

"Wha- Don't look at _me_!"

"It was _your _idea," Rayyan said, accusingly.

There was silence for a moment.

"Something needs to be done. And it's up to us," Sara announced finally. "It's time we do the right thing."

* * *

"Duncan," Amaar said, as he strolled beside his friend in the hallway to his room. "Have you ever had one of those days in which you feel that everything that can go wrong goes wrong?"

"Rough day, Amaar?" Reverend Magee asked.

"You can say that," he replied with a sigh. "First, I saw Sara stealing..."

"Sara _stealing_?"

"I know! Then, Yasir moved into my office because he said his office was getting repainted..."

"Did he really say that?"

"...Then Babar threw away my speech and wrote me, what he called, a better speech."

"What speech?"

"The speech I was supposed to give at some event at the mosque tomorrow. Rayyan told me about it today, because apparently, she forgot to tell me before."

"Hmm..." Duncan looked thoughtful.

"... And now everyone else seems like they don't want me around anymore."

"Strange," the reverend replied. "Funny I didn't hear anything about this event. It's tomorrow at the mosque, you say?"

"Yeah..." Amaar looked at his friend. "You don't suppose they were lying, do you? Like, I mean about the event, the office being repainted, all that?"

"Could be..."

"But... Why would they do that?"

"Beats me." Duncan looked at Amaar. "What you need, Amaar, is a day off. Just go up to the lake tomorrow morning and relax for some time. Enjoy the sunshine, fresh breeze, you know, all that. Forget about all your stress for the moment and give yourself some time to calm down a bit."

Amaar thought for a moment.

"You know, Duncan," he finally said. "I think you're right. I need some time to cool off."

Amaar turned and started climbing up the stairs to his room.

"How can I ever thank you, Duncan?"

"A piece of blueberry pie would be nice," the reverend mused, but it was too late. Amaar had already gone up to his room.

"I guess that question was rhetorical," Duncan muttered to himself. With that, he walked away.

* * *

Amaar closed his eyes, feeling the grass beneath him, and the 7 AM breeze around him.

Duncan was right. He really did need some time on his own, some time to relax. Nobody was here to bother him.

Soon, the imaam dozed off, his stress blown away by the wind.

* * *

"I found Amaar!"

A voice woke Amaar up from his nap. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see Babar's face staring straight in front of his.

With a slight scream of surprise, Amaar jolted up.

"Babar!" he exclaimed. "Babar, you scared me. What are you doing here?"

Amaar looked around to see the rest of his friends surrounding him.

"What are you all doing here?"

Rayyan was the first to speak up.

"Amaar," she said. "We just came here to say sorry."

"Rayyan's right," Sara added. "We're so sorry Amaar. I guess we all went too far."

Amaar blinked a few times, recalling what they were talking about.

"But _why?_" he questioned, finding his voice again. "Yesterday, I mean, what was that all about?"

There was silence for a moment. Finally, Yasir spoke up.

"It was my fault," he admitted, raising his hands up for surrender. "Rayyan pointed out that you had been looking stressed lately, and I thought that maybe, if we stressed you out even more, then told you at the end that it was a joke, you would somehow feel better. I was just dumb. I'm sorry."

"But, I wasn't stressed before," Amaar said, bewildered.

"You weren't?"

They all looked at Rayaan.

"Wait, hold up," Rayyaan said, stepping forward. "What about a few days ago? Amaar, remember when we were talking, and then suddenly you looked stressed and were like 'Gotta go!', and then ran off. What was that all about?"

"Oh, that," Amaar laughed sheepishly. "Actually, my phone was at 2% at the time, and I didn't want to interrupt you talking. But then you just kept on talking and talking, so I was stressed by the fact that my phone would die. You know, so then I had to interrupt you to go charge my phone. Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

"But Mom!" Rayaan turned to Sara. "You _agreed _with me that he looked stressed!"

"I didn't want you to feel bad for being the only one to think that, Dear."

Rayaan scowled.

"So, it was all a joke?" Amaar asked, looking around. "The speech, the stealing, all that?"

"It sure was. I'm not a thief. Don't worry," Sara reassured him. "I returned the items, it was all planned between me and the cashier, and the books I had donated were not stolen."

"Oh," Amaar said with a sigh of relief. Then he frowned. "But wait. The cashier took my money!"

The guy bolted towards the store.

"Hey, wait up!" Rayaan called out, running after him.

Fatima and Sara looked at each other, then ran after them. Yasir and Babar ran too, just for the sake of something to do.

Finally, they all reached the store.

"The cashier's gone," Amaar told them. He face-palmed. "And my $65 are too."

"I guess the cashier was the real thief, eh?" Sara said, sympathetically.

Poor Amaar.

The End

* * *

**And done! How was it? Should I make more like these? Please let me know what you thought of my one-shot in the reviews. Have a great day, and Assalamu'alaikum! **


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